Changing the World's Underpants
by WinterSpirit13
Summary: The title is from a speech I herd to day at school. An Anniversary-type thing for the Boston Marathon. America isn't going to stop from his normal activities on the day of the Boston Marathon, even though wounds haven't been healed. But when something makes him remember what happened last year, England comforts him. My first Hetalia FF, slight UsUk, Human and country names used.


**AN: So, I was listening to this thing called the news… (Yeah my dad was watching it and I was in the same room) and they were doing a thing about the Boston Marthon, and what happened a year ago. That memory isn't really gonna go away, is it? I wasn't there, actually, nowhere near. But it still hurt, and so I decided to create a little thing for it, after all it was one year ago today. And this is what I'm doing instead of my homework… **

**WARNING: Kindof a sensitive topic. And SLIGHT UsUk. It's pretty small, just a bit of fluff, so if you don't like it, its semi-ignorable. Semi.**

A year is not a lot of time for a Nation. A year is like a month to us. So while it's been a year…

A year is nowhere near enough time to forget about painful events. It's too short of time to bury them away, leaving the only memorial in some storage room to be brought up in another 100 years. No, the wounds, while healing, still hurt.

_It still hurt him, remembering this._

It wasn't the smartest idea for Alfred to come here, he knew. But there was no _way _he was letting some memory of a bombing stop him from coming here today of all days. After all, he had never missed it before, this was a tradition he held every year, ever since 1897. He didn't always participate in the run, but he would watch it, or go to the church were Paul Revere started his ride, or the sports game.

Nobody would stop him from this, no matter the wounds of heart or body inflicted.

"America… I know it's a tradition but are you sure you're ready to go? It hasn't been long, you know. You've hardly been able to stand just _visiting _there, even helping. I don't think it's quit the best id-"

"Oh come one, Iggy! I'll be great! How could the hero not show up?!"

The now slightly annoyed "Iggy" rolled his eyes at the countries antics. Honestly, America was a mystery sometimes to him. "Alright, alright" the shorter nation mumbled, as Arthur practically dragged him out of the house. His reluctance didn't matter in the slightest, as Alfred was-and this was still a complete mystery to Arthur on how-incredibly strong,

What would be normal of America was a loud laugh or some obnoxious statement. But that's not what England heard. He heard silence, which, from a certain talkative nation was more worrying than any words he could have said.

It wasn't like he had no reason to be in this unnerving silence. Memories filled his head. Memories from last year, from the utter terror not only he, who had been participating in it, but also from his people. It was crippling, but it wasn't enough to break his spirit. A hero doesn't let something like that keep them back. A hero is stronger in peril, braver in terror, and can be happy even in the most heartbreaking of moments.

The bombs at the Boston Marathon could never break the American Spirit. It only made it that much stronger.

The car ride was all too long for both of them. Tension, apprehension was in the air, almost tangibal. You could feel it in the air, killing the words to start a conversation before they left anyone's mouth, heck, before they were thought.

Yeah, it was a long ride.

Finally, they arrived at a parking lot, and Alfred pulled into a spot. There was _no way _after all that he would let **Arthur **of all people drive. That would most likely be disastrous.

"C'mon! Let's go to the restaurant first!" The American said, somewhat cheerfully. It was clear he was trying to put everything behind him, and just have a good time like usual on this day.

The streets were bustling with people; the city was loud and alive. "Where to first?" England said, knowing that he would be dragged along no matter where they were going.

"Can we go to the Church first? I mean… you don't have to come if you don't want to but…" America trailed off giving a small smile. At first this confused England, until he realized just which church. His eyes saddened a little, Old North church, the whole thing with Paul Revere and all of that. He felt a twinge in his chest at the reminder of the revolutionary war.

"No, it's fine. I'm fine I'll come."

America seemed to brighten slightly. A "Cool, dude!" was exclaimed before England was dragged away.

Most of that day went by in a similar fashion, racing around Boston, going to the game, etc. Not soon enough, in the Englishman's opinion, did Alfred seem to wear down slightly.

"Would you like to get something to eat?" He asked, hearing America's stomach complain from lack of food. Realizing the man's eating habits, he quickly added, "But _not _McDonalds!"

"_Fine." _The other replied with a childish pout. He led Arthur to a reastruant, near were the race was been. Walking in, they could see through the large windows the street and sidewalk.

"A booth for two, please." England said to a waiter who had walked towards them. She was a pretty girl, brown hair, and surprisingly lighter brown eyes. She directed them to a booth in a corner of the room, where they had a clear view of outside, and the street corner.

Predictably, Alfred chose a burger, on called the "American Burger" It apparently was like a normal burger, but had atrocious things such as _crisps. _England shuddered just at the thought of how unhealthy that must be, and he took a salad.

After a short wait, there were eating and there was idle conversation. Little things like world affairs, small politics, etc.

"Yeah Dude, like that would ever happen. It's about as possible as Russ-"

America went silent, his eyes widening for a second in horror, before clenching shut.

"America? America? Alfred?" Arthur went to put his hand on the other Nation's shoulder, but he quickly retracted it when the other one flinched away.

"A-alfred are you okay?" He asked, his voice dripping with concern. The younger of them was slightly trembling, eyes still closed tightly and hand clenching and unclenching.

"The-The sirens Iggy.. the sirens..." Alfred chocked out. England's thick eyebrows raised in slight surprise as he realized what he meant. A fire truck had pulled around the street corner. The simple, everyday sight, here, must have looked all too similar as to one that day, only a year ago.

It brought up to many fresh memories.

_A deafening __**BOOM! **__Was heard. Smoke filled the air, and the atmosphere turned into one of confusion. 'What was that? What was happening? GAH! W-why does it hurt so much?!'_

_That noise, was it a simple accident? You know a manhole-no. Now that Alfred had run to the scene, he could tell. Oh, god, that was a _bomb. _Fear filled him, an icy dread as he stumbled forward, trying to help his people._

_His ears were ringing, a loud piercing noise, yet everything else seemed so muffled. Everyone was in panic, yet they were trying to help. _

_Then the next bomb went off._

_He couldn't believe it…_

"Alfred?"

_What had just happened…_

"Alfred, dammit, please answer me! It's okay, it's going to be okay… Just tell me what's the matter!"

_Why was their bombs? Why was there destruction? Why were his people hurt?! He could see their wounds smoldering, and he felt pain take over from his own wounds, multiplied so much by others._

_He was on the ground, hurt, he couldn't help. As a Hero, he was useless, useless. He heard sirens coming to save people, and his eyes filled to the brim with tears…_

"A-are you crying? Oh Alfred…"

America opened his eyes, tears blurring his vision. His sad blue orbs met the concerned emerald ones, staring at him.

"Arthur… the bombs…" A small sob he tried to suppress fought its way up, cutting him off. The mentioned country got up to move to the other side of the table, next to America.

"Shh… shh… That's over, that's over, you are okay, I'm here with you…" He murmured soothingly, rubbing his hands on the crying nation's back, trying to offer any comfort he could.

"I-I know it's just that… people _died _and I c-couldn't do a-anything… It still hurts…" he sobbed. "…I'm still afraid…" The last part was so quite that England could only barely hear it.

"Alfred, look at me. You couldn't have known. You caught the bad guys in the end, that's the best you could have done. As a country, especially one as, well, as you would say "heroic" as you, we get targeted. When things like this happens… it hurts. We've all felt it. I've felt it. You're not alone, I'm there for you." America looked up, quieting slightly, his sobbing turning into softer crying. But then his eyes dulled.

"But I'm supposed to be the hero. I was supposed to save everyone just in time. I'm a hero, I was supposed save them. When they needed me… I couldn't do anything. And the pain everyone went through afterword, it hurt the American _spirit. _Why on that day of all days! I caught them… but that's not enough, it doesn't fix everything!"

"Alfred… You're living proof that America can never, never, never be defeated. You are the proof of that assertion. So much has been taken from you, but you never, ever gave up,"* England said softly.

"Thanks dude…" Alfred said, finally calming down.

"No problem, bloody git." And he pulled America into a comforting kiss.

Pretty much everyone at the restaurant was gawking at the strange show, but at the moment, they could care less.

This may have hurt all of America, but a year later, this goes to show, nothing, _nothing, _can break us.

We're so much stronger than that, we have each other.

**AN: First off, if anything is wrong PLEASE TELL ME! I haven't ever been to Boston, and this was written in 20 minutes, with no real research, while listening on repeat to Prussia saying To RRRRISE LIKE A MAGIC JACK IN ZHE BOX. So sorry 'bout that. So this is my first FF for hetalia as I have said, SO I'M KINDA NERVOUS ALL YOU ARE NEW BURRITOS. I should have been writing my Naruto FanFics anyways, heheh. Oh, and if anyone was wondering, the American Cheeseburger is a real thing, But it's not at that restaurant, it's at The Cheesecake Factory, and it's quite good. Really big though…**

**IF ANYONE CARES I AM GOING TO SAKURA CON ON FRIDAY WHOOOO~**

**Please read, review, follow, favorite, and become my eternal Burrito. **


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